Miracle on Melrose Avenue
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or situations created for TGAH; I am borrowing them purely for entertainment purposes and am making no profit from their use. Thank you to Stephen J. Cannell, the cast, producers, writers, directors, and crew for giving us this wonderful, timeless show and the characters that bring it to life.
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Ralph Hinkley shifted from foot to foot, shooting glances over his shoulder along the deserted street below. His knee-length black cape jigged in the light morning breeze gusting across the rooftop.
"Hurry up, Bill," he said, twisting the fluffy white false beard in his hands. "They'll be here any minute."
Bill Maxwell grunted, cinching the shiny black belt tight around his heavy red coat.
"This damned cushion keeps slipping," he said. "Give me a hand will ya?"
Ralph tucked the beard under his arm and reached out to hoist the puffed front of Bill's jacket.
As Bill leaned forward, the white bobble at the end of his red stocking cap flopped down, bouncing against the end of his nose.
"Now I can't see what I'm doing," he mumbled into the fluffy white collar of his coat.
"Oh, for heaven's-" Ralph said, grabbing the belt from Bill's hands and cinching the two ends across his waist.
"Too tight!" Bill gasped.
"Sorry," Ralph answered, letting out the belt a notch. "How's that?"
Bill shot him a dark look.
"Humiliating," he said. "I still don't get why I gotta wear the monkey suit-"
"Santa suit," Ralph corrected, holding out the white beard.
"Monkey suit," Bill repeated, snatching it from his hand. "You've already got red jammies on. Why can't you be Santa?"
"I'm in charge of special effects," Ralph said, watching Bill's attempts to secure the beard. "It's crooked. You've got one of the hooks stuck in your hat."
Bill dropped his hands and crossed his arms on his chest.
"I hate this," he said. "I really hate this scenario, Ralph. You know I'm not good with kids. I can't stand drool. And they're always sticky. I don't care how clean they are, they're always sticky. And this stupid beard itches."
Ralph rolled his eyes and reached up to snug the wire hooks into place over Bill's ears.
"All you have to do is hand her the present and be jolly for a few minutes," he said. "Then you go back to being a Grinch and all will be right with the world."
"What the hell is a Gr-" Bill started, but Ralph held up a hand.
"Here they come," he said, peering up the street.
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On the street below, two figures came into view. A tall slender woman with dark curling hair cascading from under a red knit cap led a tiny girl by the hand.
Pam Davidson shrugged deeper into her tartan plaid coat and cast a surreptitious glance at the rooftops of the low row of eclectic storefronts and restaurants lining Melrose Avenue.
It was a cool Christmas morning. The temperature was low for a Los Angeles winter. It had dipped into the forties over night and the few other pedestrians they'd passed on the way had been walking fast with hands tucked into their pockets. Pam looked down at the girl taking short, quick steps beside her.
"Are you okay, Melanie?" she said. "Not too cold?"
The girl looked up from under the white trim of her red ice-skater's bonnet. The little white puffballs at the ends of the ties holding it securely on her blond curls bounced against her red woolen coat.
"No, Pam," the girl answered in a high, piping voice. "I'm not cold, thank you. Thank you too for taking me out this morning. The shops are pretty."
"Maybe we'll see something special this morning," Pam said. "Christmas Day is magical, you know."
She shot another quick look at the rooftops and thought she saw a flash of red disappearing behind a sign board.
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On the roof, Ralph gave Bill a last once over. His partner's perfectly coifed graying hair was buried under a mass of flowing white curls. The red and white suit was appropriately puffy. His white gloves practically shone in the morning light and his black boots gleamed.
The only thing that was recognizably "Bill" in the figure before him was the pair of glowering green eyes visible above the bushy white beard.
"Bill, you look like a reindeer just barfed in your boots," Ralph said. "Try to remember this is the only thing Pam asked for this year."
"Well," he amended. "This and a diamond tennis bracelet, but this is what she's getting. Try to think how you felt when you got exactly what you wanted for Christmas."
"I'm still waiting," Bill said, trying to press the beard down with both hands. Each time he pushed down it seemed to get fluffier.
Ralph gave him a curious look.
"What was the best present you ever got, Bill?" he said.
"Well, one year I got a toy car," Bill said slowly. "No wait, that was a brick with wheels painted on it. But it rolled pretty good if you gave it some topspin."
He leaned around the wooden sign board to peer down at the street.
"That her? Blond hair, two feet tall, probably one missing tooth," he said. "Where'd you find this kid, Central Casting?"
"Big Brothers, Big Sisters," Ralph said, "She's Pam's Little Sister and her name is-"
"Melanie, yeah I know," Bill said and heaved a sigh. "All right, let's get this disaster over wi-"
He flinched as Ralph blinked out of sight and tightened his grip on the huge, red fabric sack in his hands.
"Damnit, Ralph, all I want for Christmas is a little warning when you're gonna do that," Bill said, his eyes casting from side to side for some sign of his invisible partner. "Would it k-"
His words were lost in a sudden gasp as hands gripped him around the waist.
As his feet left the ground, he hissed, "Be careful, now. If you drop me on her it's really gonna be a Christmas to remember."
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Pam slowed to a stop in front of a store window lined with small candy-colored sweaters and an array of matching headbands and mittens. Muttered whispers drifted down from the roof overhead and she quickly bent forward and pointed deep into the closed shop.
"Melanie," she said, gesturing at a mass of floating pink tulle and satin near the counter. "Isn't that the ballerina costume you liked?"
The little girl nodded slowly.
"Yes," she said softly. "But Santa didn't bring me it."
"Well," Pam said carefully. "Sometimes Santa is just a little slow."
She waited for a long moment, then peered upward and raised her voice.
"And sometimes he misses his cue completely," she said to the roof.
She heard a scuffle of boots and loud whispering then a bright red shape appeared over the edge of the roof.
"Look!" she said, pointing skyward. "Who can that be?"
Bill stared down between his black-booted feet at the rising pavement. Two faces looked up at him. One small and pink and wide-eyed with amazement. One larger and grinning like a Cheshire cat.
"Left!" he hissed over his shoulder. "Go left, Ralph!"
"I'm trying!" a voice muttered in his ear. "Precision landings are not my specialty."
Bill's feet hit the sidewalk with a thud that vibrated up through his knees. He rocked back on the high heels of his boots and shot a grateful glance at Pam as her hand shot out and gripped his arm.
"Santa," she said, "We were just talking about you."
"And wondering where you were," she added meaningfully.
Bill cleared his throat.
"Uh, yeah," he said glancing around the deserted street. "Santa got held up in holiday traffic over LAX."
An elbow dug sharply into his ribs and he shot a look at the empty air over his shoulder. He looked down at the glowing face of the little girl staring up at him. Her mouth was open wide showing the gap of the promised missing tooth. Her bright blue eyes gazed at him, enraptured.
"So, uh, Melanie, right?" he said. "I hear you've been a... girl."
She blinked up at him.
"A good girl," he added hurriedly. "A really, good girl. So, uh, did you get what you wanted for Christmas, there?"
The shining face nodded up at him slowly.
"Well, not everything, right, sweetheart?" Pam prompted.
Melanie shook her head, her wide eyes still locked on Bill's face.
Bill shot a worried look at Pam. She crouched down by the dumbstruck little girl.
"She wanted a special dress," Pam said. "Didn't you, Melanie?"
Melanie nodded.
"Uh, you don't say," Bill said uncertainly. "Well, maybe I got something-"
He held up his big, red bag and began to rummage inside. After a moment he dragged out a long box wrapped in gold paper and topped with a huge red bow.
"Hey, what do you know?" he said, holding out the glittering package. "This is for you."
Melanie held up two mittened hands and Pam reached out to help her take the box.
"Look at that, Melanie," Pam said, resting the package on her lap. "Do you want Santa to help you with your mittens so you can open it?"
Santa shot Pam a warning glare, but Melanie was already nodding quickly and holding her hands up toward Bill's whiskered face.
Bill rolled his eyes and shifted to kneel on the sidewalk by the little girl. His white-gloved hands presented an obstacle, but after only a little fumbling he managed to tug off one tiny red mitten. He sat looking down at the little wooly shape before Pam reached over and lifted it off his palm.
"Cute, aren't they?" she said quietly.
Bill coughed.
"Uh, yeah," he said briskly, tugging off the second mitten and handing it to Pam. "Adorable. Okay, kid, have at it."
Melanie's face lit with a brilliant smile and she whirled toward the package on Pam's lap. As the sound of ripping paper and giggles filled the morning air, Bill sat back on his heels to watch. In no time at all, Pam was holding a white cardboard box with a few shreds of gold paper sticking like streamers to the corners.
"Let me give you a hand with that," Pam said as Melanie pried at the edge of the box.
Pam helped her lift the lid. As the white cardboard rose, a fountain of pink tulle billowed out.
Melanie's mouth shaped a small 'o' of wonder as her hands reached into the confectionary mass of pink. She backed away and held up a skirt of floating fabric. Her wide eyes found Pam's and the woman laughed out loud at the look of wordless joy.
"There's more I think," Pam said, holding out the box again.
Melanie lowered the skirt and reached back into the box, this time coming out with a shiny pink satin ballet shoe. She clutched it to her chest, crushing the tulle skirt in her arms.
"It's my ballerina suit," she whispered. "It's magic, like you said, Pam."
"It sure looks that way, honey," Pam said, grinning over the girl's head at Bill. "Who'd believe it, huh?"
Bill opened his mouth to respond, but the breath was abruptly knocked out of him when a pink missile launched itself at his chest. Small arms locked around his neck and a high, piping voice whispered in his ear.
"Thank you, Santa," Melanie said. "Thank you, so much."
She planted a light kiss on his cheek and stepped back, still clutching her new dress.
Bill's mouth was still open. He stared back and forth between Pam and the little girl.
"Uh, you're welcome, kid," he said at last. "No problem. Glad you like it."
"I do!" Melanie said, bouncing on her toes. "I'm going to wear it all the time."
"Ok, well, you do that," he answered and looked up at the roof. "I think, uh, Santa's gotta take off now. It looks like- oh, jeez!"
Santa swatted at his face as a shower of white flakes fluttered down over the three of them.
Pam gasped.
"It's snowing, Melanie!" she said, pointing up at the shower of white. "Look, snow!"
Melanie giggled, clapping her hands around the dress clutched in her arms.
"Snow!" she said and stuck out her tongue.
Pam's hand shot out and closed over Melanie's mouth.
"I wouldn't, sweetie," she said, raising an eyebrow at Bill. "You don't know where that snow's been."
"Listen to the Counselor, kid," Bill said, levering himself up to his feet. "She's a smart cookie. Now, I gotta get back to the North Pole before the elves start a union. So-"
"Santa," Melanie broke in, bouncing on her toes. "Can I see your reindeer?"
Bill shot a look at Pam.
"No, honey, sorry," he said adjusting his belt. "The reindeers are invisible. Santa doesn't want to get shot down by NORAD."
Melanie stopped bouncing.
"Nora-" she said slowly.
"The Greench," Bill said hefting his red bag onto his shoulder.
"Grinch," Pam said.
"Whatever," he said. "So take care of yourself, kid. And, uh, keep being good and stuff."
"I will, Santa!" Melanie said, then she turned to Pam.
"Pam, please?" she said, holding out her dress and ballet shoe.
"Okay, honey," Pam said, shifting to take the dress from Melanie's outstretched hands. She gave Bill a curious look.
As soon as her hands were free, Melanie whirled and ran headlong into Bill's leg, wrapping her arms around his knees.
"I love you, Santa," she said looking up at him with shining eyes.
Bill's mouth opened and closed several times. He looked up at the last few flakes of snow drifting from the rooftop and looked down again, blinking quickly.
"Uh, thanks, kid," he said, his voice suddenly hoarse. "I-"
He coughed.
"Uh, Santa loves you, too."
He reached down and patted the red ice-skater's bonnet.
"Okay, Melanie," Pam said, reaching out for her shoulder. "Santa's really got to go now. He's a busy man."
Melanie released her grip on Bill's leg and backed away. An instant later, he rose rather unsteadily into the air.
"You forgot to say, 'ho, ho, ho," a voice whispered in his ear.
"I got your 'ho, ho, ho' right here," Bill muttered under his breath.
"See ya, sweetheart," he called down. "Merry Christmas and everything."
He vanished over the top of the roof and Pam shook her head.
"Santa's a real piece of work," she said under her breath.
She stood and shifted the cardboard box and dress under her arm and reached out for Melanie's hand.
"Ready to go make some Christmas cookies, honey?" she said.
"Yeah," Melanie said, finally tearing her gaze from the sky. "I wish I had some for Santa."
"Tell you what," Pam said. "We'll make some cookies for Santa and I'll be sure that he gets them. I have a feeling I know just the kind he likes."
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On the roof, Bill landed with a thud and toppled over onto his sack of empty packages.
"Nice one, kid," he said grimly, picking himself up and shucking off his white gloves.
Ralph waved him over.
"Come on, don't you want to see this?" he said.
Bill sighed and trudged over to stand beside his partner. Ralph's cape fluttered around his knees as he leaned out to look over the roof.
Down the street. Pam walked beside Melanie who bounced and jumped around her feet like a spring fawn. They could see her mouth moving a mile a minute and an instant later they heard Pam's light laugh carried back on the breeze.
Ralph looked up at Bill, his face split in a broad grin.
"Doesn't that just make you feel-"
His words broke off and his eyes widened as he leaned forward.
"Bill, what's that in your eye?" he said. "Is that? No. It couldn't be. Is it?"
Bill pursed his lips and looked down to start unfastening his belt.
"I don't know what you're yammerin' about," he said. "I got a little 'snow' in my eye is all. I'm sure it'll be okay once the burning stops."
"It was just potato flakes," Ralph said, pointing at the empty box at his feet. "A known non-irritant. Admit it, Bill. That really got to you, didn't it?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Bill said, tugging off his beard. "I've been allergic to potatoes ever since the Army. You try peeling 700,000 spuds and see if you look at 'em the same way again."
"It wasn't the potatoes," Ralph said, picking up the curly wig and red stocking hat as Bill shed them.
"Well, it musta been the drivel then," Bill said as he sat down on the low wall that lined the roof. "It always makes my eyes water."
Ralph straightened, his arms full of soft red suit.
"You know," he said slowly. "I don't have to have this costume back until tomorrow."
Bill paused in the act of yanking off a shiny black boot. He looked up at his partner.
"Tomorrow, huh?" he said slowly.
Ralph cocked an eyebrow and held out the white beard.
"There's a children's shelter I know of in West Hollywood," he said.
Bill stared at the beard for a long moment, then reached out and took it from Ralph's hand.
"All right, kid," he said, looping the beard over his ears. "You're on. Let's go jolly the hell outta 'em."
- end-
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